


You Daft Old Man

by doctorsdaughter



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: Christmas Time, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, On Set, Peter - Freeform, i like writing rpf okay, jenna - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5489249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorsdaughter/pseuds/doctorsdaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jenna Coleman was a woman of very many talents, but could Peter keep up?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Daft Old Man

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so bad writing RPF I know...but I figure, someone has to like it! Hopefully...

That had started as a nickname for Peter at the beginning of filming. Jenna had been incredibly upset at him and he knew something was on the tip of her tongue.

            _“Just say it!”_

_“You’re—You’re—you’re a daft old man!” Jenna had yelled, as though she had just cursed him out with every curse word she knew. Instead, she told him what he already knew. So he began to laugh, soon he was belly over laughing, only making Jenna angrier, taking him minutes to calm down._

_“Something funny?” Jenna asked, clearly in a state of trying not to laugh but still angry._

_“That’s your idea for an insult?”_

_“What??”_

_“I’m old! Age isn’t an insult!”_

_“Well it is to some people!”_

_“Yeah, young people!”_

_Jenna finally cracked a smile and laughed, looking at him as she shook his head. “You daft old man.”_

_~*~_

The argument between them, whatever it was, was soon forgotten. But it had labelled him. Daft old man. When they had her in the dress for Robots of Sherwood or any date with Danny Pink, he couldn’t help but stare. 

            “Lookin’ at something, you daft old man?” Jenna would call in her beautiful northern accent.

            He would shoot back a witty reply and go back to his newspaper or phone or whatever he had in his hand. But out of the corner of his eye he looked, and felt the familiar pulls of his heart. He couldn’t, he fought back. She was nearly half his age. It would look awful, and he was not someone who would look well with a younger woman. It would look like pity. He wasn’t one of the people who aged well. If he was seen with Jenna Coleman, it would look out of place. Wrong. 

            _Not possible._

~*~

            Series nine soon started, and word about Jenna’s upcoming leave buzzed around set. Peter tried to ignore it. Try to ignore the inevitable chatter that comes with a companion leaving. He knew Jenna was done with Doctor Who, and if that’s what she wanted, Peter wasn’t going to try to change her mind. 

            “Hey you,” Jenna said, walking over, sipping her tea, bundled in her jacket. “How was break?” 

            “Boring,” Peter admitted. “Got some writing done, did some music—”

            Jenna’s eyes widened, “Music? You never told me about music! Will you show me sometime?”

            In that moment, they were just two people. A guitar player and a girl wanting to hear a song. Close to an eighty movie. All he needed was his hair 10 shades darker and slicked back and it would work. Everything would work if he were younger.

            Right now he was an old man, longing for those eighties years and wishing he’d been younger when he met Jenna.

            “You can come over and I’ll play for you,” he laughed. “Whatever you like.”

            “Really?” Jenna said, holding her tea up to her face, her cheeks red from the cold, the cup hiding what would be a smile no one could say no to. 

            “Of course. Tonight.”

            “Great! It’s a date.”

            Oh, those words should not have flustered him as they did. 

~*~

            That night, after tidying up his apartment the best he could and polishing his guitar (not a euphemism) and making sure everything was perfect, the doorbell rang precisely at seven. He opened the door to Jenna in a black dress. That…was unexpected.

            “Come in,” Peter said, gesturing her from the cold. He turned the heat up to warm her, showing her to the living room where there was already wine sitting. 

            “I like a man who comes prepared,” Jenna smiled as she sat down, beginning to pour. Her entire demeanor was different. More relaxed, less jump-y and more relaxed, almost…sensual. This was not what Peter was expecting. He realized that at work she was putting on a show. This was Jenna. A woman, who blushed and drank wine and wore black tiny dresses. Maybe this was more of a date than he thought.

            “Come sit,” she said, gesturing to the seat next to her. 

            “I can’t play and sit next you,” he said dumbly, all of the sudden feeling hot, very hot, and nervous, _very_ nervous.

            “We can talk instead,” Jenna prompted. “Music can wait.”

            Peter nodded slowly, sitting down next to Jenna. The conversation began to flow, and even in their pauses, it wasn’t awkward. They would sit and comfortable silence and drink, or have debates of the masses about politics. Jenna Coleman was a woman of very many talents, but could Peter keep up?

            Eventually the talking quieted, the bottle emptied, and the silence set in. She had taken his shoulder as her pillow, a blanket draped around them. Peter could fall asleep in this position for the rest of his life if he had the option. 

            “Peter,” Jenna whispered. Jenna whispering almost never happened. 

            Peter looked down to that face. Her eyes were wide and inflated and her face was flushed from all of the laughing they had done. 

            “What is this?” Jenna whispered.

            Peter bit his lip, “What do you want it to be?" 

            _Silence._

“A date.”

            Peter’s heart leapt a thousand ways and he smiled at Jenna. This was a moment. A moment that could lead to many moments but those didn’t matter. _This_ mattered.

            “Come with me,” he said, gently standing up.

            Jenna stood up, and was soon pulled into the most brilliant kiss of her life. It was like in the storybooks she read as a girl. The prince, holding his princess, the magical kiss that blew every other kiss out of the water. He could have taken her upstairs and willing had his way with her, but he kissed her gently, as if asking for a confirmation. She gripped on his shirt and never wanted this moment to end. But all moments and, the kiss broke, both breathing heavily.

             “Are you sure?”

             “You daft old man…I thought you’d realized by now.”


End file.
